


running with the wind

by thepsychicclam



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe, Beta Derek Hale, First Time, M/M, Scent Marking, Scenting, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 04:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3160571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's been running and hopes he can find sanctuary in the Stilinski Pack's territory. The Alpha isn't the strong sheriff he thought he was, but a sarcastic awkward teenager that Derek finds he kinda hates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	running with the wind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Infectedcolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infectedcolors/gifts).



> i blame this partially on [literaryoblivion](https://twitter.com/lit_oblivion), who was talking about derek coming in contact alpha!stiles, who's an annoying, sarcastic little shit.
> 
> this was supposed to be like 3k...whoops?

Derek paused, hands on his thighs as he breathed. He had been running for way too long; his body was exhausted and he couldn’t make it much farther. He had probably run over a hundred miles today.

There wasn’t a mark indicating the territory line, but Derek could feel the power in his bones. The scent of another Pack, of an Alpha, the power of that Alpha extending to the edge of his territory. Derek couldn’t go around the territory – he was about to drop on the spot. Plus, he didn’t know how far behind him the other Pack was. 

Derek warily stepped across the territory line, as if he expected to be electrocuted or strung up in a trap. But nothing happened. Derek let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He cautiously walked deeper into the forest, into the Pack’s territory. The territory belonged to the Stilinski Pack. It was a small Pack that most other Pack’s took no notice of. Beacon Hills was a tiny town nestled away in Northern California, and from what Derek could tell, they kept to themselves. Derek remembered his mother talking of Beacon Hills fondly. Derek had never been to Beacon Hills, but his mother had been friends with some of the Pack members as a child. When Derek had started running, he ran towards Beacon Hills, the memory of his mother smiling as she spoke of the Preserve under full moons in his mind. 

When Derek had googled Beacon Hills at a library in a town a couple hundred miles south two days ago, he’d learned that Alpha Stilinski was better known as Sheriff Stilinski. 

Nice cover, Derek thought.

He hoped he’d judged the Pack correctly. He needed a temporary sanctuary, needed to heal, recover, and figure out his next move. He had tried to do that alone, and had almost gotten cornered because of it. It was a gamble, but maybe the Beacon Hills Pack would be as friendly to Derek as they’d been to his mother.

Derek combed the woods looking for a suitable den for the night. He found an empty summer cabin which hadn’t been used in several months. Since it was late fall, he decided it would make suitable shelter for the night.

He hunted near the cabin, catching two rabbits for dinner. He made a small fire near the cabin and roasted the rabbits. He didn’t like the taste of raw meat if he could help it. Laura always made fun of him for it, for his human palette. 

_Had_ made fun of him. Laura was dead, he reminded himself. 

Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore, but he forced himself to eat the meat. He needed his strength, especially if the meeting with the Alpha didn’t go well the next day. He couldn’t keep running on no food.

When he’d finished his dinner, he covered the signs of his fire, then went inside the cabin and stretched out on the bed. The night was too quiet, the cabin stuffy and confining, but it was warm and safer than being outside. 

After awhile, Derek fell asleep with the light from the half moon shining on his face.

*

Derek heard the snap of a twig, and shot up in bed. Three sets of footsteps: one human, one Beta, one Alpha. This was it, then. They’d found him, just like Derek had suspected. He’d just expected it to be later in the day. 

Derek glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. So, they were the ones on time. Derek had overslept. Must have been more exhausted than he realized.

Derek slowly walked to the door as the other Pack approached. They stopped outside the cabin, no doubt hearing Derek waiting inside. A minute passed, then another, before Derek squared his shoulders and opened the door.

The three men waiting on him were not what he expected.

There was the sheriff – the Alpha, Derek corrected himself – standing on the right. He was dressed in his uniform, gun and all. The one flanking the left was darker skinned, with a mop of dark hair and dark eyes. In the middle was a tall, lanky guy with a mess of brown hair on top of his head. His eyes gave Derek pause; they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, bright and sharp like a polished stone of amber. 

The Beta and the human were young, not even twenty. Derek had expected his welcoming party to be more…intimidating. Still, he refused to relax just yet.

“Alpha Stilinski,” Derek addressed the older man. The three exchanged a glance; Derek seemed to be missing something.

“Son, I think you’re confused,” Alpha Stilinski responded. Derek’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“That’d be me.” The one in the middle stepped forward, his hand raised slightly, those beautiful eyes bleeding a bright shade of red. Derek’s burned blue in response as he looked down. 

That was the Alpha? But…that didn’t make any sense. He was a kid. Derek inhaled, and now that he knew what he was looking for, he felt ignorant for his mistake. Father and son, one human, one wolf. That’s why he’d mixed up the scents, that’s why he’d assumed the boy was a human. He’d come here thinking the Sheriff was the Alpha, and their scents were so intermingled they almost smelled the same. Standing so close together without Derek actively focusing…he was a fool.

 _This is why Laura is dead,_ he told himself. _You’re a foolish Omega. It’s only time before your foolishness gets you killed._

“I’m Stiles,” the boy spoke finally. “Alpha of this territory.” Derek lifted his eyes, the Alpha back to looking like an awkward teenager. “This is my dad, the sheriff of the territory. Which is kinda like an Alpha of its own, which is kinda confusing and a pain in the ass sometimes.”

The sheriff sighed in irritation, not enough for a human to notice, but enough for Derek to notice. Derek was caught off-guard by, well, everything. If this was intimidation, it was the weirdest intimidation he’d ever faced.

The Alpha, Stiles he’d called himself, watched Derek closely, his eyes never wavering. Derek didn’t look him in the eyes, but it was difficult. He just wanted to stare into them like some twelve year old with a crush. His wolf was threatening to sing poetry about the Alpha’s eyes. It was embarrassing. The exhaustion was obviously getting to him. He just hoped the Alpha couldn’t read Derek’s thoughts through his scent.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Stiles tilted his head to the side. Other than the red eyes, it was the only time Derek could start to see the wolf instead of someone who just hit puberty. “And your expression is quite sour.” Derek tried not to glare, but it didn’t work very well. It just seemed to amuse the Alpha. “What are you doing here, sour wolf?” 

“Passing through,” Derek responded through gritted teeth. He needed sanctuary, but he didn’t like being made fun of. 

The Alpha stepped forward. Derek watched as Stiles inhaled, his eyes not missing a thing as they took in Derek’s appearance. “Passing through,” he said doubtfully.

“I request sanctuary,” Derek said as the Alpha – Stiles – circled him. Derek tried to remain calm, but it made his hackles rise, made him feel too much like prey. 

“Why?” the Beta asked. “Your eyes are blue. Did you kill someone?”

Derek’s instinct overrode his common sense for a moment, and he growled at the Beta. The Beta growled in response, but Stiles growled at them both. They both looked at the ground. 

“Scott,” Stiles addressed the Beta with a sigh.

“What? It’s a fair question.”

Stiles finished circling Derek and stopped in front of him. He tilted his head and inhaled. “You have someone else’s blood on you.” He leaned forward, sniffed a stain on Derek’s shirt, then sniffed his neck. Derek felt an embarrassing shiver of terror and lust curl down his spine as Stiles’ breath passed over his skin. He ignored them both – the Alpha was too close to his exposed neck for comfort. “The blood of someone related to you. And other wolves, not related to you. And wolfsbane on your hands.”

Derek’s eyes cut to the Beta – Scott – whose lip was curling, his fangs exposed and eyes gold. Derek knew he was trying to look intimidating. He could smell his dislike and distrust from clear across the yard. When his attention turned back to Stiles, he didn’t look angry or distrustful. He looked curious.

When Derek didn’t respond, Stiles said, “You’re an Omega.”

“No,” Derek responded, but the slight crack in his voice gave him away.

“He’s lying,” Scott said. 

Stiles frowned. Derek stared into Stiles’ eyes, refused to back down. It was stupid, a challenge to hold the Alpha’s gaze. But he was too tired and too much had happened for him to play games with a pup Alpha. If they wouldn’t have him, he’d keep running. Maybe he should have run in the first place. His mother had been a girl a long time ago. 

“Did the other Pack follow you here?” The question surprised Derek – and he wasn’t easily surprised. The triumphant look on Stiles’ face rubbed Derek the wrong way. It was like he was enjoying this, the little shit.

“I tried to hide my tracks,” Derek replied, “but I can’t guarantee anything.”

Stiles took a few steps back, eyes still on Derek. “You can stay for a day or two, max. Then I want you gone.” Derek gave Stiles a clipped nod. 

“You can come into town,” the Sheriff said. “Get cleaned up, some clothes – “

“No,” Derek snapped. “That’s not necessary. I’ll stay here, if that is okay.”

Stiles studied Derek for a moment, then nodded. “That’s fine.” Stiles turned and walked away, flanked by the Sheriff and Scott. Showing his back to Derek meant that Stiles felt that Derek was no threat. Derek didn’t know whether he should be insulted or relieved at that. 

After they’d walked a little ways, but not far enough away to be out of earshot, Scott said, “You shouldn’t let him stay. He’s a blue-eyed wolf with blood on him.”

“Scott may be right,” the sheriff said.

“He came to us for protection,” Stiles said. “Usually you’re the one begging me to help people. You always tell me to be a more compassionate Alpha.”

“Not to that guy,” Scott muttered. “I just don’t like him.”

Derek could hear Stiles’ laughter ringing through the trees.

*

Derek spent the afternoon deciding whether or not he should bolt. He had sanctuary in this territory, but what kind of Pack was this? The Alpha was a fucking kid! And the Beta hated him already. If the other Pack attacked, Derek wouldn’t only get himself killed, but these two idiots and the Sheriff as well. 

But Derek was still exhausted. His body hadn’t fully recuperated from everything that had happened the last week, and he desperately needed a few days to lick his wounds in peace.

So, Derek was stretched on the bed with his eyes closed when he heard the footsteps approaching. He recognized the scent of the Alpha immediately. The Alpha was being deliberately loud, announcing his approach. Derek knew that if he’d wanted to, the Alpha could have gotten inside the cabin before Derek even had a clue. Derek opened the front door to the cabin just as Stiles approached the steps.

“Scott always said I walked too heavily,” Stiles said as he ascended the steps.

“Purposefully announcing your arrival isn’t hard,” Derek replied. 

Stiles gave him a crooked grin. “Can I come in?”

“It’s your territory.”

“It’s called manners,” Stiles said, sweeping inside the cabin. “You should try it.” Derek followed Stiles inside, watching with a scowl as Stiles glanced around the room and sat on the edge of the bed. On purpose, Derek was sure. Stiles watched him with a small curve to his lips as Derek’s hackles rose. Stiles knew exactly what he was doing, that Derek had made the bed his temporary den, and he’d invaded it anyway. The kid was obnoxious. “Manners and a better expression. Anyone ever tell you you look like a serial killer?”

Derek just glared. 

Stiles grinned. “See? And the blood really takes it over the top.” He laughed. “Scott told me you looked like bad news, but you know, despite the blood and the angry blue steel, I think he’s wrong.”

“What do you want?” Derek growled. He didn’t feel like playing games. And that’s all this was, a game to this kid Alpha.

“Well, your name for one. I seemed to have missed that during our earlier meeting.”

“Derek.”

“Hello, Derek. Nice to meet you.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Why are you rolling your eyes? I’m being a good host.”

“A good – a good?” Derek sputtered. “I don’t want you to play good host! This isn’t some game!”

“Oh, I’m aware of that,” Stiles said, all levity gone as his body went rigid, voice suddenly serious. He seemed to triple in size with his power. Derek felt a tremble of instinctual fear. “A young woman by the name of Laura Hale died three days ago, almost two hundred miles south of here. Mysterious animal attack is the official cause of death. Well, not _mysterious_ ; I added that part. Then her body mysteriously – once again, my word – disappeared from the morgue. No one seems to know where she went.”

An instinctual growl escaped Derek, but Stiles remained calm. Despite a non-Pack wolf growling at him. It surprised Derek so much that he calmed. Stiles just seemed amused at Derek’s surprise. This kid was the oddest Alpha he’d ever met.

Then, Stiles turned serious, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped between them. His voice was soft when he said, “You buried her beneath wolfsbane.” Derek swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “She was the last of your Pack, I’m guessing.” Derek refused to look at him, stared at the far wall instead. 

Stiles stood up and made towards the door, but he stopped right beside Derek. He reached out and squeezed Derek’s shoulder gently, his touch lingering for a moment. Derek leaned into it, an almost imperceptible movement. Stile dragged his thumb over the ball of Derek’s shoulder, then continued out of the cabin.

Derek stood there long after he left, Stiles’ fingers still burning against his skin.

*

Derek slept late again the next morning. He pulled off his shirt and surveyed the wound on his side. Still wasn’t fully healed. He frowned, as if he could glower the wound into submission. He couldn’t move on while the wound was still healing. The exhaustion and lack of food from the past week wasn’t helping it any.

Derek roamed the woods, hunting for breakfast. He was tracking a deer, thinking maybe he could offer the remaining meat to Stiles’ Pack since he’d never eat it all, when he heard some rustling in the leaves. The deer spooked and ran off, and Derek turned his head and tracked the sound. Whoever or whatever it was lurked too far away for him to smell it, but Derek felt the pulse of _dangerdanger_ burning beneath his skin.

He crouched down into a defensive pose, remaining still as he listened to the gentle rustle of leaves. Whoever it was didn’t want to be detected, but Derek was shifted, his senses on high alert. He wasn’t going to be out in the open with another Pack on his tail in a foreign Pack’s territory without keeping his senses open.

Derek bared his teeth, but remained silent. The enemy was just out of scent range, moving slowly through the underbrush. Derek’s eyes followed the sounds across the width of the woods, then everything went silent. 

The enemy crashed through the underbrush from behind him, catching Derek off guard and tackling him to the ground. Derek fought, his fangs snapping as the other body easily overtook him and held his arms and legs down. Teeth nipped at his neck, and that gave Derek pause.

 _Nipped_ , just grazing the skin, but not breaking it. Derek stilled, and he smelled it. Alpha. Stiles. 

Derek growled, and he heard the boy’s laughter before teeth nipped playfully at Derek’s neck again. Derek pushed up, and Stiles let himself be thrown off onto the ground. Derek leapt back into a defensive crouch, teeth bared and eyes electric blue. Stiles was sprawled on his ass in the dirt, leaves in his hair, a streak of mud smeared across his cheek. His amber eyes were bright with amusement. 

The longer Derek looked at them, the calmer he felt.

And that just pissed him off. That, and the fact that Stiles was clearly _enjoying himself._

Derek snapped his teeth, just because. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You really are a spoil sport,” Stiles said, sitting up straighter and looping his arms around his knees. “I thought you were going to take out a chunk of my flank for a moment there.” Derek didn’t ease from his crouch as he growled. “Are you half-feral? Did you just get bitten? Because my momma taught me how to be a werewolf, and she’d have tanned your hide for being overly aggressive.” Stiles smugly brushed a leaf from his arm.

“You’re a moron,” Derek said, fangs receding as he pulled out of his crouch. He warily sat on the ground, eying Stiles with disgust.

“Okay, so maybe it was an inappropriate joke,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I was trying to see if I could really sneak up on you. I wasn’t lying when Scott said I walked too heavily.”

“What kind of Alpha are you, anyway?” Derek spat. He was angry, _so angry_. His sister was dead – murdered – and he was hurt and on the run from a rival Pack, and this Alpha pup wanted to _play fucking games!_

Derek jumped to his feet, and after throwing one last look of disgust at Stiles, he stalked away. Forget his wound – he wasn’t staying one moment more in this Alpha’s territory.

“Hey!” Stiles was around him, barring his path, in an instant. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you.”

Derek swore that Stiles fucking _whined_. When he glanced back at Stiles, though, he was just watching him, unimpressed. 

“Is that what you do? Run?”

Derek growled, eyes flashing as he snapped in Stiles’ face. “You know nothing about me!”

“Wanna bet?” Stiles asked, eyes glowing red. Derek felt the instinctual tug to lower his gaze, to roll over and submit, but he stood his ground, eyes never wavering. 

“Just because your daddy can pull up police reports doesn’t mean you know – umph!” The air whooshed out of Derek as his back hit the ground. His skull cracked hard against the forest floor, causing everything to go bright and fuzzy. The weight of Stiles pushed heavily on his chest. After the ringing in his ears subsided, he could hear low, threatening growls.

“Don’t talk about my father,” Stiles growled. So, Derek had found Stiles’ pressure point. Didn’t surprise him that the kid was fiercely protective of his father. Alpha werewolf with a human father, no scent of a female on him. Not hard to guess where the mom was. 

Derek didn’t respond. He remained still, eyes averted and neck firmly not exposed. He wasn’t submitting to the punk kid Alpha, no matter how fucking divine he smelled, sweating and breathing over Derek.

They stayed like that for a long time, until both their heartbeats calmed and their breathing slowed. Derek didn’t know what was going on. He had never had interactions with an Alpha like this one. Usually, Alphas intimidated him, pitied him, or chased him until he could hide and they tired of the chase. 

This was just plain bizarre.

Derek’s mind was focused on the next best place to run after _immediately_ leaving this territory when he felt a nose dragging along his neck. Derek froze, and he felt the uncertain tick in Stiles’ heartbeat. After a moment, when Derek hadn’t moved, Stiles dragged his nose back along Derek’s skin. 

Derek’s emotions conflicted violently inside of him. Part of him screamed _rundangergonow_ as the Alpha touched the vulnerable skin of his neck, but another part of him howled, an urge to lift his chin and present his neck stronger than anything else. 

The scents coming from Stiles were clouding his head, too. Pleasant scents like pine forests after the rain, warm bread and blackberries, and silver moonlight hitting his skin under a sky full of stars.

Derek’s fingers twitched to touch, as Stiles nosed behind Derek’s ear. 

With a nip of Stiles’ teeth, the spell was broken. Stiles leapt to his feet, eyes burning red and fully wolfed out. “Run with me,” he said through fangs and took off into the woods.

Derek lay there in the dirt, dazed. His skin tingled where Stiles’ nose had been, and his body felt empty, light without the weight of Stiles on top of him. He heard Stiles crashing through the underbrush, then break through into the clearing. He circled Derek, brushing his legs and arms, then nipped at his bare torso before grinning.

Derek leapt to his feet and chased after him.

Stiles threw his head back and howled.

*

They ran through the woods for hours, Derek chasing Stiles and Stiles chasing Derek. A voice in the back of Derek’s head told him this was frivolous, that his sister had just died, he was still healing, and he needed to conserve his energy.

But the urge to follow Stiles was too strong. He felt like a thousand pounds of weight had been lifted from him as he chased Stiles through the trees, the sounds of his happy growls mixed with his laughter floating through the air. Every time Stiles passed by close enough to touch, he ran a hand over Derek’s arm, across his shoulders. So, Derek started doing the same thing, reaching out to trail his fingers along Stiles’ body whenever he got close enough. The first time had caught Stiles by surprise, but his face had lit up brightly, his fangs nipping affectionately at Derek’s fingers.

They ran until the sound of Stiles’ cell phone cut through their contented growls. Stiles slowed to a stop, and Derek bounded ahead, through some brush into a thicket of trees. Reality was a nasty reminder crashing down around him.

“Scott, what is it?” Stiles answered the phone, sounding frustrated. Derek focused and listened to the call.

 _”Where are you? You went to see Derek, and you’ve been gone all day!_ ” 

“I’m fine,” Stiles said. 

_”Your dad wants to know if you’re coming to dinner. Lydia said she tried to call you, but you’ve ignored her calls._ ”

“Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

Derek didn’t wait for Stiles to hang up the phone. He ran off into the forest, as far away from Stiles as he could get.

*

Despite all Derek’s better notions, he didn’t leave. He had tried to run from the territory, to get away. The day was confusing, to say the least. He tried not to think about what any of it meant, because that was dangerous – especially if he was wrong. His hand came up to the scent Stiles had branded into his skin, wondered if the dumb kid Alpha had even known what he’d been doing.

He didn’t have time for this. There was a Pack after him, that he needed to get revenge on for killing his sister, and there was Scott who hated him, and _Lydia_ who had been trying to call Stiles and – 

Derek was fucked. He knew this. Every time he had neared the edge of the territory, he felt a whine bubble up from inside him, something just beneath the skin pulling him back from leaving. He circled the perimeter until the sun went down. 

The moon had risen when he heard the sounds of someone tracking him, just out of sight. Close enough to hear him, upwind so whenever the light breeze blew, they got a waft of Derek. They followed Derek for close to an hour as he made his way back to the cabin.

When Derek stepped onto the porch, someone materialized from the shadows. Derek smelled him before he saw him.

“I thought you’d be gone,” Stiles said.

“I did, too,” Derek said without looking at him. He walked into the cabin and shut the door. 

Stiles circled the cabin a few times, then remained nearby for a bit before going back to wherever he came from. 

Eventually, Derek fell into a fitful sleep.

*

When Derek woke up the next morning, the sun was shining brightly overhead. He rolled over and picked up his watch from the nightstand. It read half past ten. This wasn’t like him. He stretched, thinking about how Laura would tease him for staying in bed so late. 

Grief so strong he could taste it overcame him. He thought about lying there and letting it overtake him, just give in and waste away, let the other Pack kill him too. He’d be with his family, out of his misery. But his stubborn self-preservation was too strong for that. What would Laura say if he rolled over and died?

A niggling voice in the back of his head whispered, _What would Stiles say?_

Derek took a deep breath and got out of bed. 

He smelled it as soon as his feet hit the floor. He followed his nose to the front door and opened it to find two dead ducks lying beside a bag and a coffee cup. There was a note attached to the bag. Derek crouched down and read.

_Didn’t know which you preferred – donuts and coffee or wild duck. Me? I prefer a large donut and a coffee any day, but hey, I don’t judge. To each wolf his own._

_Enjoy.  
Stiles_

Derek glanced around, eyes scanning the trees as his ears listened. There was no one out there. Stiles had left them when Derek had been sleeping. That should have made him uneasy, but it didn’t.

Derek picked up the food and walked inside the cabin. He laid the two ducks on the kitchen table and ate the two donuts and drank the lukewarm coffee while sitting on the edge of the bed. Lukewarm coffee meant Stiles hadn’t been there that long ago. 

Something inside Derek began to stir at the implications. But there was no way anything of this meant anything. Stiles probably felt sorry for the sad Omega because he’d figured out that Derek’s sister had just died.

While Derek plucked the ducks, no matter how many times he told himself it was nothing, something warm curled up his spine and settled just beneath his chest.

*

Derek was shirtless and doing pushups on the porch when Stiles walked out of the woods. Derek didn’t stop until Stiles was at the base of the porch, watching. Derek’s skin prickled underneath Stiles’ watchful eyes, and when he got a whiff of interest and appreciation on the wind, he preened.

When Derek finally got to his feet, his chest and back covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Stiles was frowning up at him. “Finished showing off?”

Derek shrugged. “Trying to stay in shape.”

“An obvious struggle.” Stiles’ flushed cheeks belied his sarcastic comment. Derek smirked, and Stiles rolled his eyes. “When are you leaving?”

Derek shrugged. “I can leave now if you want.” Stiles’ face remained neutral. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t want anything. I just need to know what your intentions are since you’re in my territory. I have to think about my Pack,” Stiles said.

Stiles’ nonchalance pissed Derek off. Yesterday, he’d tackled him to the ground and scented him, then chased him through the woods all afternoon. This morning, he left fresh kills (and coffee and donuts) on his doorstep. Now, he was acting like they were strangers? 

Fine. That made it easier. Fuck this Pack, fuck this Alpha, fuck his life.

Derek stormed into the cabin and slammed the door. Stiles was through it a moment later, with Derek pressed back against the far wall. Stiles was mere inches from Derek’s face, his eyes boring into Derek’s. It made it hard to think, to breathe, his mind clouded with Stiles all around him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Stiles spat. The question was so very human, no sign of the wolf in sight. Derek didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

“My problem?” Derek replied. “You’re the one who – “

But Derek didn’t get to finish his sentence because Stiles kissed him. A hard, biting kiss that was more teeth than lips. Derek returned it angrily, his frustration snapping as he attached Stiles’ mouth.

When they finally pulled apart, Stiles’ mouth was red and Derek’s was sore, and they were both trembling. “You’re an asshole,” Stiles said.

“I’m not the one who scent marked and ran,” Derek accused.

“I didn’t run!” Stiles exclaimed. “You ran off last night like some skittish deer!”

“I’m not skittish,” Derek growled. “You were going to leave for dinner with Scott and Lydia and – “

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Ohmi _god_ ,” he groaned, stepping away from Derek. He walked towards the kitchen, where the ducks were plucked and ready to be roasted for dinner. Derek saw him smile to himself.

“Are you trying to mate with me?” Derek asked.

Stiles turned around, looking like a deer in the headlights. “What?”

“The scenting, the chasing, the fresh kills. All part of the mating ritual.”

Stiles shook his head. “No, I am _not_ about to put a ring on it, Caveman. I…” Stiles shifted uneasily from foot to foot, a deep blush coloring his cheeks. In that moment, he didn’t look like an Alpha werewolf. He looked like a nervous teenager. “I wanted to ask you on a date.”

“A date?” Derek asked flatly.

Stiles scrunched his face in irritation. “Yes, a date. You know, in a restaurant where we eat pizza made of processed food someone cooks for us instead of kills we brought down ourselves. Then maybe a movie, you know those big fancy moving pictures?” Stiles glared, and Derek glared right back. “I’m an Alpha, not the Grizzly Man.”

“You want to _date_ me?” Derek asked again, and Stiles nodded. “Even though I’m a murdering passing Omega with a Pack on my heels.”

Stiles shrugged. “I’m not claiming I have great taste.” Derek frowned, and Stiles smiled. Derek felt his heart flipflop in his chest. Stiles’ widening smile told Derek he didn’t miss that. “And yes, I was courting you.” He approached Derek, not stopping until they were touching from knee to shoulder. He leaned close, inhaling as he dragged his nose along Derek’s neck. Stiles whispered, “There’s something about you I can’t get out of my skin.”

A pleased rumble rolled through Derek, and Stiles straightened and met his eyes. He looked nervous, but excited. “You feel it, too?” Stiles asked.

Derek didn’t fight the flush of emotion, and Stiles leaned closed and dragged his nose against the warmth in Derek’s cheeks. Derek turned his face and captured Stiles’ mouth in a kiss. It was slower this time, more of an exploration and discovery than an act of claiming dominance. Derek let his hands move this time, placed them on Stiles’ waist and slid his thumbs beneath the material of his shirt to sweep across his warm skin.

“Derek,” Stiles breathed against his mouth, and the sound made him light-headed. Stiles grabbed Derek under his thighs, lifting him easily despite his small frame. Derek wrapped his legs around Stiles’ waist, kissing him as Stiles carried him over to the bed. Stiles easily laid Derek on the mattress and covered him with his body.

The comfortable weight of Stiles’ body was back, like it belonged there. Derek let his hands slide all the way under Stiles’ shirt, palms moving across the wide expanse of Stiles’ back. Derek wanted to see, touch, smell, taste his skin. He tugged on the hem of Stiles’ shirt until Stiles sat up and pulled it off, tossing it to the floor without another thought.

Derek immediately latched his mouth onto Stiles’ skin, kissing and licking until he felt dizzy with it. Stiles leaned over Derek’s body, his hands sliding along Derek’s arms to bring them over his head. Derek easily let his arms be handled by Stiles, not feeling the slightest threat when Stiles pinned them above his head. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Stiles whispered against Derek’s ear as he started to unbutton their pants. But his hand was trembling as he fumbled over the fly of Derek’s jeans. Derek lifted his eyes, took in the pinched look on Stiles’ face, and leaned up to kiss his chin. Stiles looked at him.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?” Derek asked. The flush covering Stiles’ chest and shoulders rose higher, up his neck and to his cheeks. He averted his eyes, but Derek got one of his hands free and gently turned Stiles’ face back so he could look at him. “Hey,” he said softly, kissing the underside of his jaw. “It’s okay.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Stiles frowned. “Eighteen, an Alpha werewolf, and a virgin.”

Derek wrapped his fingers around Stiles’ hips, thumbs dragging along the jut of his bone. “I don’t mind,” Derek said with a soft press of his lips against Stiles’. “Just adds to everything else I like about you.”

“Which is what?” Stiles asked, rolling to Derek’s side as he slowly unbuttoned his jeans.

“That you’re nothing like other Alpha’s I’ve met.” He kissed Stiles, tongue sliding along the seam in his lips until Stiles opened his mouth. He’d just met Stiles, but Derek felt like he was home for the first time since Laura died, maybe since his family burned. He felt safe in Stiles’ arms, and Derek hadn’t felt safe in a very long time.

Stiles finally got Derek’s pants undone, and then his own. He reached inside and pulled Derek’s cock out, and Derek watched Stiles’ face as he stared at it, his cheeks pink and eyes tinged with red. In a flash, Stiles was stretched out on top of Derek, kissing him deeply as he rocked their hips together. Derek could feel the sharp end of fangs in Stiles’ mouth, the press of claws against his wrists that were pinned above his head again. 

It was the hottest thing Derek had ever felt. Stiles’ cock dragged along his, and he lifted his hips to match the friction, chasing the build low in his belly. They writhed against one another, panting kisses into one another’s mouths. Stiles’ hands eventually slid down Derek’s arms, scratching claws along the sensitive underside of his arms and across his armpits, down his sides. Derek trembled, goose bumps breaking out across his skin.

The scent of Stiles around him was incredible. Derek felt drunk on it, on the smell of their scents mixing as their bodies slid together, their cocks throbbing and leaking precome against their bellies. Derek lifted a leg and hooked it around Stiles’ waist, and Stiles gripped his thigh, claws digging in just this side of painful. Derek moaned, his cock jumping between them. Stiles nipped at the edge of his jaw, and the slide of fangs against his skin mixed with the claws pressed into his thigh and drag of Stiles’ cock against his own trapped between their bodies sent Derek over the edge.

Stiles growled happily, his hips thrusting more easily through Derek’s slick come until he came. The scent almost sent Derek over the edge again. Their come mixing between their bodies was euphoric, a smell Derek was sure would be branded into his skin until the end of time.

Stiles sagged on top of him, weightless and heavy. Derek kissed Stiles’ shoulder, his eyes drooping. He was warm and content, and more importantly, safe.

Within minutes, Derek was asleep.

*

Horrible noise. There was horrible noise, and Derek needed to destroy it. Right after he peed. And got the uncomfortable, stickiness off his stomach. 

“Hello?” Stiles’ sleep-heavy voice answered. Derek was too drowsy to listen to the conversation. Since he couldn’t get out of bed to relieve himself, he chose instead to kiss the soft skin of Stiles’ armpit, which he’d been presented with when Stiles had shifted on top of Derek to answer the phone. Derek felt Stiles shudder as he licked the skin, the coarse hair rough on his tongue. “I’m fine…no, I don’t know what time it is…no, I didn’t know you were worried.” Derek frowned, then latched on to the pale skin, causing a sharp inhale from Stiles. “It’s nothing, Scott…no, I’m with Derek…” Stiles held the phone away from his ear, where Derek could hear Scott yelling. He was too preoccupied with licking and sucking the sweat and musk from Stiles’ skin to care about Scott in that moment. “Look, I’ll be home later. Yeah, okay, bye.” 

Stiles ended the call and tossed the phone onto the nightstand with a little too much heft. Derek sat up with a concerned frown. Stiles ran a thumb over Derek’s forehead, easing the crease. “Scott worries.”

“Does he have reason to worry?” Derek asked.

Stiles grinned mischievously as he pushed Derek onto his back and propped his chin on his hand in the middle of Derek’s chest. “He thinks I’m involved with a murderous werewolf.” Stiles laughed, but Derek did not. Stiles rolled his eyes and poked Derek’s cheek. “Lighten up, sour wolf.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Stiles rolled his eyes again. “ _Fine._ Derek.”

“Why does he worry so much about you?” Derek asked. He readjusted them, so he was propped slightly on a pillow with Stiles’ head still on his chest. He draped a blanket over their naked bodies. 

“He’s my second. It’s been that way for a long time.” Derek frowned as he stared at the wall. He kept his thoughts to himself. That didn’t seem to satisfy Stiles. “Aren’t you going to ask the inevitable question?”

“What question would that be?”

“How did someone so young become Alpha?” Derek met his eyes, and once again, there was a young man looking back at him instead of an Alpha werewolf. He wondered sometimes if that’s how he looked, switching back and forth between terrified kid to angry wolf. He wasn’t that much older than Stiles.

“Do you want to tell me?” Derek asked.

Stiles dragged his fingers along the wound on his side that was almost healed. “How did you get an Alpha’s wound?” he asked. “It was deep enough to almost kill you.”

“It did almost kill me.”

It was Stiles’ time to frown, to look worried. “That’s when you came here.” Derek nodded. “Why?”

“My mother,” Derek said quietly. “She used to tell me stories about spending summers with a Pack in Beacon Hills, about running through the Preserve under full moons and swimming in lakes. She said the Pack was very small, but fiercely loyal and protective and kind.” Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “I hoped that the Pack would still be as my mother described.”

“Well, was it?” Stiles was honest to god curious. Derek found his lack of arrogance endearing.

“The Beta is kind of a dick and hates me,” Derek started, which caused Stiles to giggle. “The Alpha is a bit of an asshole.” 

“Hey!” Stiles slapped Derek hard enough to leave a bruise, which instantly faded. “It’s not like you’re sunshine and daisies.”

Derek leaned forward and kissed Stiles deeply. When they pulled apart, they were both panting. “They killed my sister,” Derek explained a few minutes later, “the ones who are after me. They saw a weak Pack and killed her for her power. I was a loose end, a play thing.” Derek sighed. “I was just faster.”

Stiles pushed himself up and crawled into Derek’s lap straddling him. He placed a hand over Derek’s heart, eyes bleeding red as he stared at Derek intently. “I swear to you, I will never let anything hurt you. Not as long as I’ve got blood left in my veins.”

Derek surged up and kissed Stiles, rolling them until Stiles was on his back and gasping.

*

They lay in bed most of the day, until Stiles couldn’t ignore his phone any longer. Derek reluctantly let him out of the bed and watched unhappily as Stiles put his clothes back on. Stiles leaned over Derek and gave him a lingering kiss. “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” Stiles said.

Derek paced restlessly around the cabin while he waited for Stiles to come back. Soon, it got too confining, and Derek took off outside, running into the trees.

He ran as the sun finished sinking beneath the trees. The world felt too small for what he was feeling, for the way his blood was singing. He let go, wolfed out and running on all fours. When he caught the scent on the wind, his wolf howled. The answering howl made him happier than he’d felt in a long time.

He bounded through the woods towards the scent, until he looked over and saw Stiles running through the trees not far off to his right. He flashed blue eyes, grinning around a mouthful of fangs. Stiles changed course, heading in his direction until they connected in a large crack of fur and fangs. 

They wrestled to the ground, until Derek was on his back again with Stiles on top. Stiles grinned, red eyes shining brightly. He leaned forward and licked a long stripe up the side of Derek’s neck. Derek moaned, and Stiles did it again.

This time Stiles didn’t fumble with the fly of Derek’s jeans, even though his grip around Derek’s cock was nervous and unsure at first. It didn’t matter to Derek. Stiles’ hand around his cock felt so good that it only took a few minutes before Derek came over his hand. Stiles sat back on his haunches, using Derek’s come to slick up his own cock as he jerked himself off. Derek’s eyes never left Stiles’ pale hand working over his red cock, didn’t miss the swipe of his thumb or slight twist of his wrist. Stiles choked off a grunt when he came, painting Derek’s chest with ropes of come. 

Stiles placed his hands on Derek and spread his come over Derek’s chest, working the scent into his skin. Derek closed his eyes, feeling content and loved as the Alpha marked him as his own.

*

They walked hand in hand through the forest. Stiles led the way, not towards the cabin but towards what smelled like the town. Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand when he tensed. “I want you to meet the Pack,” Stiles explained. “And my dad. And I’d like to take you on that date.” Derek turned and raised his eyebrow. “What?”

“You just marked me and _now_ you want to take me on a date?” Derek asked with amusement. 

“Hey, I’m still 75% teenager who’s never had a boyfriend. Damn straight I want to take you on a date.” Stiles leaned close and kissed Derek’s cheek. “Actually, I want to parade you around town. Show you off.”

“Oh, I’m a trophy wolf, then?” Derek laughed.

“Totally.” Stiles made a turn towards the right, and they exited the woods into a clearing where a blue Jeep was parked. As they approached, Derek could smell Stiles’ scent thickly, with an undercurrent of Scott. Stiles unlocked the passenger side before he walked around to the driver’s side. “First, though, we need to get you showered. You look gross.”

“Probably smell gross,” Derek wrinkled his nose. Stiles leaned down and dragged his nose against Derek’s bare chest, which still had come crusted on it. 

“Smell perfect.” Stiles kissed his nipple before sitting back up and cranking the Jeep. Derek tried not to feel smug, but well, he felt smug. Stiles kept glancing at him with small smiles, which meant he knew. Derek didn’t care. Stiles had scented him, the mark heavy in his skin now. Everything about this felt right. “My dad’s at work right now, which is probably a good thing. He wouldn’t use wolfsbane bullets on you, most likely, but I’m sure he’d be tempted.”

“What?” Derek exclaimed.

“Dad wouldn’t like me bringing you home, covered in come.”

“You still live with your dad?” Derek asked incredulously.

“Dude, I’m 18. I just started college like two months ago,” Stiles replied defensively. “It’s not like I’ve had a lot of time to find a place of my own.”

“Oh god, I’ve mated with an Alpha werewolf who still lives with his father.”

“There you go with that mating shit again,” Stiles groaned. “You make us sound like two wild animals.”

“Stiles, you chased me down and scented me. That’s not exactly a human mating ritual.” Stiles growled, clearly annoyed. Derek chuckled. “I’ve mated with an Alpha who lives with his father and who’s an infant.”

“Don’t call me an infant,” Stiles growled, mood turned dark, his Alpha powers filling the small space of the car. “I hate that.”

Derek’s wolf whined. He glanced over at Stiles, whose entire body was rigid and tense. Derek felt a bit contrite as he reached out and curled his fingers around Stiles’ neck. “How old were you when you became Alpha?”

A wave of stale grief rolled of Stiles as he replied, “Nine.”

“Nine?” Derek exclaimed. He pressed his fingers into Stiles’ neck with more force. “How are you even alive?”

“Fiercely loyal and protective,” Stiles echoed Derek’s own description of the Pack. “My mother was the Alpha. A hunter killed her, it passed to me. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins helped. My grandmother was, I don’t know what to call it, the Alpha regent? You know, the person who helps rule until a king is old enough to rule on his own.”

“How did they keep other Packs from killing you?” Derek asked. The thought of nine year old Stiles, consumed with newly acquired Alpha powers, scared and missing his mother…the realization of how vulnerable Stiles had been made bile rise in Derek’s throat. Stiles reached behind him and grabbed the hand on his neck, and brought it to his lips to kiss. Then, he threaded their fingers. 

“My dad’s the sheriff. That helped a lot. I was homeschooled until high school. A lot of stuff happened, and well, here I am.” Stiles shrugged like it was nothing, but Derek wasn’t fooled. He could see the underlying fear through the cracks in Stiles’ armor.

“Hunters killed my family,” Derek whispered. He never spoke of it, hadn’t even talked to Laura about it much. “I know how it feels.” Stiles rubbed his thumb along the back of Derek’s palm, and kept his eyes on the road.

*

Stiles’ home was a generic two-story suburban house. Stiles parked in the driveway and then led him inside. It smelled strongly of Stiles, of family and home and Pack, and it made Derek ache. Stiles glanced at him but didn’t say anything.

“Shower’s in here,” Stiles said when they got upstairs. “I’ll just – ahh!” Derek tugged Stiles into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Stiles didn’t protest when Derek pulled him into the shower.

When they got out, Stiles gently dried Derek’s hair and Derek kissed bruises that immediately faded into Stiles’ shoulders. “This will have to do,” Stiles said when they were inside his bedroom. Derek wasn’t really paying attention; he was too busy inhaling the concentrated scents of Stiles all around him. He didn’t snap out of it until Stiles threw a shirt at his head. “It’s probably too small, but it’s all I have. You’ll have to wear your pants even though they’re dirty.”

“I can wear my shirt,” Derek said, though the idea of wearing Stiles’ clothes excited him.

Stiles held it up with disgust. “It’s covered in blood. No.” He crossed the room in a few quick strides, face pressed into Derek’s neck. “I want you to wear my shirt.” Derek couldn’t resist the opportunity to be surrounded by Stiles’ scent.

Stiles drove Derek a few block, to another innocuous home. The moment he stepped out the car, he knew the home belonged to Scott. But he could also smell many other scents, scents that clung to Stiles’ skin. Pack. As they approached the door, he heard voices quieting, and more heartbeats than he cared to count. Stiles placed a reassuring hand on the small of Derek’s back.

When they walked into the house, everyone in the living room stared at them. Derek resisted the urge to crouch and growl. They weren’t all wolves, but not human either. Scents he couldn’t recognize in the muddled scent of Stiles’ Pack.

“Stiles, fucking A, how much jizz did you bathe him in?” a busty blonde exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. Derek felt Stiles’ flush of embarrassment beside him, and it didn’t set well with him. 

“Erica!” someone groaned.

“She’s not wrong,” a blonde guy who looked too bored and too much like a douchebag to be there drawled. “We’re glad you finally got some, Stilinski. A+.”

“Shut up, Jackson,” Scott growled. Jackson just rolled his eyes. 

“Guys, this is Derek,” Stiles said, his embarrassment hanging heavy in the air. “Derek, this is my Pack.” Derek looked around at the faces, all young, roughly Stiles’ age. Where were the uncles and aunts, the grandparents? Derek felt uneasy under all of the eyes, didn’t like the way they treated Stiles with so little respect. He was their Alpha, an Alpha who had survived unbeatable odds. He deserved to be treated with much more respect.

“How did Stilinski land someone so fucking _hot_?” someone asked. Derek snarled, which caused a few nervous laughs.

“I can’t wait till Grandma meets him,” a girl said.

“He doesn’t look like a murderer,” another person said. 

“Maybe McCall made it up,” Jackson said, sprawled in a chair and staring at the ceiling. 

“I didn’t make it up, they’re blue!” Scott hissed.

“Did he tell you why they’re blue?” someone asked.

“I didn’t ask,” Stiles responded, unconcerned.

“You didn’t ask?” a short red-headed girl exclaimed as she got up and started angrily towards Stiles. Derek reacted on instinct; he growled, fangs bared and eyes blue.

The fear in the room was palpable, a mixture of surprise and anger lacing over pure terror. The Pack stared at him, eyes distrustful and angry that he had invaded their Pack, befriended their Alpha.

Derek did the only thing he knew to do. He turned and ran.

*

The cabin was too far, so Derek went to Stiles’ house. He climbed the tree outside Stiles’ bedroom and slipped easily through the window. He curled into a ball in the middle of Stiles’ bed, his body trembling.

Stiles’ Pack didn’t like him. Despite the way their Alpha felt, they were like the Beta Scott. They didn’t trust him, didn’t want him as part of their Pack. Derek didn’t blame them. If he had the choice, he probably wouldn’t want himself as part of his Pack.

Derek wasn’t stupid. He knew no Alpha would choose an Omega over his Pack, no matter what had happened between them. Stiles was an inexperienced Alpha in regards to relationships. For all Derek knew, that was the first time he had ever followed his wolf. That was okay, Derek could get over it. Derek was used to losing people. It’s not like he expected for this to actually work out in the first place.

He had dozed off, so he didn’t hear the footsteps until they were just outside the door. When the door opened, he didn’t move, just stared out with shining blue eyes. The sheriff lowered his gun and sighed.

“Stiles called and said he thought you might be here,” the sheriff said. “Come downstairs, son, and I’ll fix you something to eat.” The sheriff walked down the hall, leaving the door open. Derek considered jumping out of the window, but something about this house, about the sheriff’s voice said _safe_ and _home_. 

Derek got off the bed and followed the man down the stairs.

The sheriff was at the kitchen counter, fixing a sandwich. Derek took a seat at the small breakfast nook. The sheriff worked in silence, then set the plate in front of Derek along with a bottle of water. Derek eyed the plate suspiciously, surreptitiously sniffing. The sheriff chuckled, and Derek looked at him warily.

“Son, I married a werewolf and raised one. I like to think I’m pretty good with werewolf mannerisms.” He pointed to the sandwich. “It’s not poisoned.”

Derek didn’t hide his surprise, and then picked up his sandwich. It shouldn’t surprise him that the sheriff was intelligent and intuitive. Stiles was sharp and clever; the man who raised him had to have possessed those qualities, too.

“So, you’re the wolf that’s stolen my son’s attention these last few days,” the sheriff started. “And apparently his shirt.” The sheriff’s eyes raked over where Stiles’ shirt stretched over his muscles, two sized too small. Derek glanced at the other man nervously. “It seems you’ve also stone his heart.” Derek swallowed loudly. “I thought you were going to be gone in a day or two.”

“Stiles convinced me otherwise,” Derek responded.

The sheriff nodded. “He probably told you I’d be angry. I let him think that, but I’m actually relieved.” Derek’s face scrunched in confusion. “When Stiles was fifteen, I woke up one night and he was gone. My initial reaction was the worst. Hunters had taken away my wife and a Pack had finally gotten my son despite all our measures to keep him safe. But I noticed his jacket missing from its hook by the door, and his sneakers weren’t by the door. I drove around town until I found him.

“I thought he was sneaking out, to meet a girl, to mess around with Scott. I caught him outside Isaac’s foster family’s house, crouched in the bushes, watching. The foster family was mistreating Isaac, and Stiles didn’t know what to do, so he had started watching the house just in case someone hurt him.” The sheriff paused and ran a hand through his hair. “Do you know how difficult it is raising a son? Add werewolf son to a human father on top of that, and then add Alpha werewolf on top of everything. How could I discipline an Alpha werewolf, tell him to go to his room, that he was grounded, that he should finish his homework?” 

The sheriff stared at the table for a few minutes while Derek silently ate. “I wish he’d been sneaking out to see a girl,” he finally said. “Instead, he snuck out to check on his Pack. I’m sure you know Stiles has never had a girlfriend or boyfriend. He’s never allowed himself that luxury. He spent his adolescence trying to survive. Girls and boys didn’t factor into that, no matter how much he loved Lydia Martin.”

That name. _Lydia_. A flicker of emotion must have passed over Derek’s face, because the sheriff gave him a reassuring smile. “She’s just a friend, a Pack mate. She dates Jackson, also in the Pack.” Derek remembered him, from the brief Pack meeting. Douchebag.

“The Pack meeting didn’t go so well,” Derek finally said, pushing his plate away.

“I figured as much when Stiles called me and then I found you curled on my son’s bed.”

Derek rubbed his hands over his face. “They don’t like me. Scott doesn’t like me.”

The sheriff leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Kinda hard not to,” Derek said petulantly. “The whole Pack doesn’t like me.”

“You have to understand something about Stiles and Scott,” the sheriff explained. “Scott has been doggedly protecting Stiles since he was a ten year old Omega who happened to play pirate on a fort with a tiny Alpha werewolf one day at the playground.” The sheriff smiled fondly. “Scott was Stiles’ first non-family Pack member. His dad ran off while his mom was pregnant, and she didn’t even know werewolves existed until Scott wolfed out on her as a kid. She raised him in isolation, until he met Stiles. Scott has been driven by one idea for almost a decade: keep Stiles alive.” Derek let that sink in, his dislike for the Beta abating a little.

The sheriff continued. “Stiles has a thing for strays. Every time some supernatural creature strolls through Beacon Hills, Stiles and Scott either help it on its way, deal with it, or make it Pack. More often than not, they make it Pack.” The sheriff held a hand out in Derek’s direction. “Case in point.”

“Why does he hate me so much if they are a Pack full of strays?”

The sheriff gave Derek a kind smile. “You’re a different kind of threat.”

“I’m not planning on taking Stiles away from his Pack.”

“But you can hurt him in ways that Scott can’t protect him from.”

Derek frowned and stared at the chipped wood of the table. “They’re not all wolves and humans. What are they?”

“I can’t keep up,” the sheriff said. “There’s a kanima and a banshee. My own deputy is part of the Pack, some fire thing. I was never good with the sprawling supernatural world. Werewolves were enough of a shock. Claudia dealt with that stuff, and I was content with that.” Derek smelled a similar sadness he had when Stiles talked about his mother. He understood that grief.

The sheriff stood up from the table and walked around to clap Derek on the shoulder. “Give them time to come around. They love Stiles, and they’ll eventually accept you because he does.” The sheriff walked to the door, but paused and turned around. “Oh, and if you hurt my son, I have a closet full of wolfsbane bullets, and I know how to cover up a murder.” Derek stared after the sheriff long after he was gone. He was dead serious, and Derek never wanted to cross him. He may be a human, but Derek was terrified of him as much as he respected and liked him.

Derek was lying on the middle of Stiles’ bed, reading a book he’d found on the bookshelf, when Stiles came bounding up the stairs, sounding more like a herd of buffalo than an agile werewolf. He flung the door open, eyes narrowed and glowing red.

“You’re an asshole.”

Derek closed the book and set it aside with a sigh. He didn’t respond, and that seemed to piss Stiles off even more. 

Stiles crossed the room, stuck his face in Derek’s neck and breathed as he rubbed his face against the skin. Then he pulled back. “Now, go back to the cabin. I’m pissed and I have Biology in the morning. I need to do some homework.”

Derek nodded and walked to the door. Stiles reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him long enough to kiss him. Then he glared as Derek walked out of the door. Derek waved to the sheriff on his way out of the house and declined his offer for a ride out to the Preserve.

Derek needed to run. He wolfed out as soon as he got to the edge of town, and didn’t slow until he hit the porch of the cabin.

*

Derek was sitting on the front porch of the cabin when he smelled the person nearing. It wasn’t a wolf, but whoever it was had the scent of Stiles’ Pack. A few minutes later, a dark-haired girl walked out of the woods. She was wearing a leather jacket, garish tights, and a plaid skirt.

“You’re a kitsune,” he greeted.

She stopped and looked around, like she’d accidentally turned into a fox suddenly. “How did you know?”

“I can see it around you.” The soft golden glow of the fox surrounded her like a second skin. 

“Stiles was the only other one who was able to see it.”

Derek shrugged. “Some wolves are more in tune with that kind of thing. It’s especially hard if they’re bitten.”

“I’m Kira,” she said as she approached the porch. “Can I sit?” Derek shrugged and pointed to the empty rocking chair. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

“When I have something to say.”

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Kira said. “Things did not go well.” Derek snorted. That was the understatement of the century. “It took them awhile to take to me, too. I wasn’t the last to join the Pack – that was Liam – but it’s different when you’re not a wolf.”

“How so?” Derek asked.

Kira smiled. “The Pack bond is different, not as strong.”

“Stiles’ dad said a lot of the Pack aren’t wolves.”

Kira nodded. “Me, Jackson, Lydia, Parrish, Danny, Allison, Mason, and Malia.” 

Derek did the math in his head. “That’s half the Pack.”

“Stiles likes strays,” Kira said with a smile.

“Apparently.”

“They’re a good Pack, though. Give them a chance.” Kira handed Derek two bags. He looked at them curiously. “Food my mom made. Just some rice and chicken dishes, a bag of chips, and some cookies. Stiles said you didn’t have any money and have been hunting your food. Thought I’d help.”

Derek stared at the bag thoughtfully. He wasn’t used to people being kind to him. Stiles, the sheriff, now Kira. His instincts told him to resist, to pick up and keep moving because this could only end badly. The other part of him wanted so badly to find a Pack, connect with people and have someone who cared about him.

He looked at the other bag. “What is this?”

“Oh, Stiles said you liked to read, so I brought you some books to help pass the time.” Kira smiled, a bright smile, but not blinding and overbearing like some people. It was genuine, and sweet, and Derek warmed to her quickly. It was impossible not to like her. He returned the smile, and her face looked like she’d won the lottery.

She left then, and Derek pulled out one of the books and started to read. It was a high fantasy novel, not usually his cup of tea, but he soon found himself lost in the world. Stiles was at the edge of the woods by the time Derek noticed him approaching. He closed the book and sat it on the floor.

“Kira said she stopped by,” Stiles said as he strolled towards the porch. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he looked awkward and unsure. Derek realized it was a normal look on Stiles. Derek wasn’t fooled as easily as Stiles’ Pack or outsiders. Maybe it’s because Derek had seen past that the last few days, and knew that Stiles used it as his armor, using underestimation as his weapon. He’d played that same trick on Derek when they’d met.

Stiles ascended the few stairs and sat in the rocking chair Kira had occupied a few hours ago. They sat in silence for awhile, until Derek could feel Stiles getting antsy. He didn’t think Stiles spent very much time quiet or still. 

“Last night,” Stiles started, “you left and – “

“What are we doing?” Derek interrupted him. Stiles looked at him in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t quite understand,” Stiles said.

“You’re a teenage virgin Alpha who’s never even been kissed,” Derek said.

“I got kissed at my friend Heather’s birthday party,” Stiles corrected. “And once at a black light party.”

Derek stared at him, unimpressed. “You’ve never been with someone, and suddenly you’re scent marking me like you just hit puberty. You know nothing about me, and yet you introduce me to your Pack and expect them to just accept me as easily as you did.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Derek barked. He felt his anger rising, his wolf clawing to get out. What was it about this kid? He’s spent every moment in his presence wanting to kill him or kiss him. It was infuriating. “You’re clever. What makes you think that I’m not going to kill you in your sleep and steal your power?”

Stiles leveled his gaze, amber eyes never wavering. Derek could fall into them so easily, and it was so hard to be angry when he looked at them. Or maybe that made him angrier. Finally, Stiles said, “I trust you.”

“Why?” Derek exclaimed, shooting out of the chair and jumping onto the ground. He paced back and forth, Stiles’ eyes never leaving him. “I’m bad news, Stiles. I’m going to get you killed just like I got my family killed, and… _Laura_.” His voice cracked on that last word, and Stiles slowly walked down the porch and came close. He reached out and slid his hands up Derek’s arms, over the curve of his biceps. Derek resolutely stared at the ground. “They’re coming for me, and they will find me. When they find me, they will kill me.”

“They won’t lay a hand on you,” Stiles growled. Derek could feel the power in his hands, the strength radiating from his touch. It sent a shiver down his spine. 

“I can’t stay,” Derek said. He wanted to say, _I’ll stay, I’ll never leave you, I’ll protect you and your Pack_ , but he knew he couldn’t. 

Stiles cupped his cheek, gently lifting his face so he could look at him. “How long have you been running, Derek?” Derek looked away, stared at the fallen leaves on the ground. Stiles already knew the answer; it was written in every expression, every movement in Derek’s body. He’d run away from smoke and flames with the scent of his Pack’s charred flesh in his nostrils, and he’d been running ever since. “You don’t have to run anymore.” Stiles leaned forward, forehead against Derek’s temple, his breath ghosting across Derek’s cheek. “Don’t leave me, Derek. Don’t run from me. Please.”

Derek crumbled. There was no way he could leave now.

Stiles led them inside the cabin and curled up behind Derek, with his arms wrapped around his chest, nose buried in Derek’s neck. Derek stared at the wall, repeating over and over, _You can stop running now. You can be safe here. You can find Pack here._

“It wasn’t your fault,” Stiles whispered. “Laura, your family. None of it was your fault.” Derek didn’t respond, and Stiles spread his fingers wide over Derek’s heart. “I know that’s why your eyes are blue. But you didn’t kill them.”

_You can stop running now. You can be safe here. You can find Pack here._

“One day you may believe that,” Stiles said. “I’ll remind you every day.”

_You can stop running now. You can be safe here. You can find Pack here._

_You found Stiles here._

*

Derek paced around the small cabin, tracing the same path as he waited for Stiles. The sheriff had picked up chatter about animal attacks a few counties over, and two of the Betas, Boyd and Liam, went on a scouting run with the deputy, Parrish Derek thought his name was, and discovered the Pack that had killed Laura was close. Derek was surprised it had taken them this long.

Stiles had a meeting with Scott, Lydia, Allison, his grandmother, and a few other people who apparently were his advisors. The Pack set up here was foreign to Derek. His mother had been Alpha, and she had made all the decisions. Sometimes she talked things over with his father, but she didn’t have advisors. She also hadn’t become Alpha at nine years old.

Derek heard the voices as the Pack approached. He was nervous. He hadn’t met with the Pack since that disaster at Scott’s house, and now that Derek had decided to stay, he had to get along with them, hoped they’d accept him.

Derek stepped out on the porch. He was wearing another one of Stiles’ shirts, this one slightly larger than the last so it didn’t fit as tightly. But it had a muffin on it, which made Derek wonder what in the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Stiles walked towards the cabin with Scott, Kira, and other Pack members whose names he didn’t know. When Stiles saw Derek, his face broke into a wide grin.

“I’m choking on Stiles’ happiness,” a curly-haired guy said, and Stiles elbowed him in the ribs without glancing at him.

“This is Isaac,” Stiles said to Derek. “He’s been wanting to meet you, but he’s scared of you.”

Derek glanced at the Beta with interest. The Beta, Isaac, grumbled to cover his embarrassment. Stiles just laughed. One of the other members who accompanied Stiles was Allison, a hunter Derek had been shocked to discover. Seeing Allison made him uneasy, the thought of her being a hunter like cold water trickling down his spine. Stiles reached out and grabbed Derek’s wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. There was also a Beta named Boyd and the deputy, Parrish. 

“I guess your werewolf council said okay,” Derek said, and then Stiles went over the plan. Before they walked towards the territory line, Stiles pulled Derek into a kiss. Derek ignored the gagging sounds from the Pack behind him. Stiles kissed Derek with more fervor just to egg them on. 

It didn’t take Derek long to realize that it wasn’t that the Pack disrespected Stiles; Derek knew without a doubt they’d each die for him without pause. The Pack was like a huge family, and they fought like siblings. It reminded Derek so much of his own family that it hurt.

The eight Pack members spread out along the territory line, with Derek standing between Stiles and Scott. Stiles’ hand hung loose by his side, and he pressed the back of his palm against Derek’s, like a comforting weight on his skin.

Derek felt a spike of fear when the other Pack started approaching. Stiles lifted his hand and dragged his fingers across the back of Derek’s neck at the same time Scott leaned into him, gently bumping his shoulder. Facing those enemies was different this time. He wasn’t alone. He had a Pack.

When they came into view, Derek immediately saw the red eyes of the Alpha. Red eyes that had belonged to his sister. The growl started low in his throat, building with each step the Alpha took. Stiles didn’t stop him. 

The Pack had five members, all older and larger than the wolves standing beside him. They didn’t look intimidated at all. When they finally stopped only a few feet away, the Alpha chuckled.

“Is this supposed to scare me, Hale?” the Alpha asked, mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

“I’m Alpha Stilinski,” Stiles said, voice deeper and more assured than usual. Derek could see the fur sprouted on his cheeks and the dark points of his claws. “Derek Hale is under my protection now.”

“Aww, you went and found a Pack. How quaint.”

“Leave this territory now,” Stiles demanded. “Go back to your territory and don’t even think about Derek ever again.”

The Alpha pretended to think. “I think not. I think instead, I’ll send him to see his bitch sister.”

In a flash, Stiles leapt on the other Alpha in a snarl of claws and fangs. The two Packs jumped into action, attacking as the Alphas fought. Derek tried to dart for the Alpha, but one of the enemy Pack got in his way. He fought alongside Isaac, taking out a chunk of its leg before it could harm either of them too badly.

He was about to go run towards Parrish and Boyd when he heard a howl, and every wolf’s attention snapped towards the two Alphas. The larger Alpha had Stiles pinned, claws at his throat. Derek howled loudly, running towards Stiles as fast as his legs would take him. His howl shook the Alpha’s attention for just a split second, but long enough for Stiles to knock the Alpha in the head. The Alpha staggered to the side, and Stiles went for his throat before Derek could blink. Derek heard the tearing of flesh and the dying strangle of the Alpha werewolf, and then the night was silent.

Derek slid to his knees in the dirt beside Stiles. Stiles looked at him, muzzle soaked in blood, eyes wild and dangerous. Derek glanced at the wolf, the one who had killed his sister, dead. He thought he’d feel different, feel victorious, but he just felt hollow. Nothing would bring his sister back, and in the end, that’s all the really mattered.

The sounds of whimpering wolves behind him tore Derek from his thoughts. The Pack had the other Pack surrounded. Stiles stood up and wiped his mouth on his forearm as he walked towards the wolves.

“I never want to see you near my territory again,” Stiles snarled. “Laura Hale’s murder has been settled. Unless you would like to join your Alpha, I suggest you get the fuck out of my sight.”

The wolves scrambled away, disappearing into the trees as fast as their legs could carry them. Derek watched after them with a frown. “Should we have let them go?” he asked. Stiles leaned his weight into Derek, and Derek could feel the exhaustion pouring from him. 

“We can still go after them and kill them,” Isaac said hopefully.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Parrish asked him. When Boyd, Derek, and Isaac just looked at each other, he said, “You know that’s not legal.”

Isaac snorted. “The Deputy says as he stands in front of a dead body.”

“Let them go,” Stiles said, red eyes still staring into the darkness. “If they ever set foot on my land again, we’ll rip them apart.” Stiles blinked, eyes back to normal. He glanced at the body. “Boyd, Isaac, help Allison deal with the body. Make sure the sheriff’s department will get a call about an animal mauling.”

The Betas went to work with Allison. Scott stepped in to help them, even though Stiles had not ordered him to. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and squeezed. “Let’s go home.”

*

Over the next few days, Derek got to know some of the Pack better. They started coming around the cabin in small groups. Kira and Malia, Boyd, Erica, and Isaac, Liam and Mason. Derek was pretty sure Stiles had spoken to them, but he didn’t actually mind it. He found he liked them, despite their idiosyncrasies. He already had a bowling date with Kira and Malia, and Isaac made him promise to come to trivia with him, Boyd, and Erica this coming week.

Three days later, Stiles drove Derek to his house and let him shower. Derek borrowed a pair of jeans and shoes from Isaac and t-shirt from Boyd. They fit okay, though not his usual style. He didn’t really care, though, because they were clean and didn’t smell like blood and Laura. Stiles washed them before he gave them to Derek, and when Derek walked into the living room, Stiles frowned at him. 

“What?” Derek asked. “Do I look bad?”

“You smell wrong,” he replied, and Derek stood there for at least fifteen minutes while Stiles rubbed himself on Derek to try and cover the scent of his Packmates. It wasn’t really that much of a hardship, standing there while Stiles rubbed himself all over him, especially since his lips kept going to his neck and his hand to Derek’s dick.

Stiles stepped away, looking satisfied. “Much better,” Stiles said as he headed for the door. 

“Really?” Derek asked. Stiles turned around, confused. Derek pointed to the tent in his pants, and Stiles smirked. 

“I’m not giving it up before the date, Derek. What kind of guy do you think I am?” Stiles laughed as he walked out of the house. Derek grunted in frustration and adjusted himself in his jeans. Thank god Isaac didn’t wear his jeans as tightly as Derek usually did.

On the way to the restaurant, Stiles chatted nervously. Derek wasn’t sure why he was nervous, but it clicked somewhere on the way that this was Stiles’ first date. And Derek had done everything wrong. 

They ordered a pizza to share, and Stiles was in the middle of a story, hands flailing everywhere, when he stopped and said, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Lie,” Stiles said, glancing at Derek’s chest. Then Stiles turned in on himself, suddenly looking unsure and self-conscious. “Are…are you not having fun?”

“What?” Derek exclaimed.

“Because, you know, that’s been my big fear, that we’d go on a date and you’d see how I _really_ am, you know, sans grr and eyes and weird wolfy instincts, because I’m really just a huge dork with bad social skills and awkward jokes and no brain-to-mouth filter and – “

Derek grabbed one of Stiles’ flailing hands and held it in both of his. “Hey,” Derek said softly. Stiles visibly calmed, swallowing as he looked at Derek. His cheeks were flushed bright pink, and his eyes were bright. It was sometimes hard to remember that the nervous, so very human, so very teenage man sitting across from him was the same person who had fought for Derek the other night. But Derek loved that there was something so very soft and vulnerable about Stiles. It made Derek want to protect him, to show him how wonderful he was every moment of the day. Everything about Stiles was beautiful and perfect. “There is nothing you could do or say that would make me not like you.”

Stiles worried his lip, trying not to look pleased. It didn’t work well; Derek was beginning to realize Stiles couldn’t hide his emotions well. “Then what is it?”

“This is all wrong,” Derek explained. At Stiles’ stricken expression, Derek quickly said, “I should have picked you up, had the sheriff glare at me and tell us to be home early, maybe brought you flowers – “

“Would you really have brought me flowers?” Stiles giggled nervously, somewhere between making fun of Derek and being extremely flattered.

Derek shrugged. “Maybe. It’s your first date,” he said, bringing Stiles’ hand to his lips and brushing his lips across the knuckles. “I should have done it properly.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, “I think it’s going okay.”

“Me, too.” Derek smiled.

They talked about school over pizza, Stiles scandalized that Derek never finished high school. Derek learned that Stiles was thinking about going into criminal justice like his dad, but he said he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do if he was honest.

After dinner, they walked hand-in-hand the five blocks to the movie theater. When they got to the register at the concession stand, a familiar smirk greeted them. “Hello, boys.”

Stiles glared, though Derek could tell now that it was half-hearted and playful at best. Erica pulled out her cell phone and snapped a picture. “What are you doing, Erica? I thought you weren’t working today.”

“I wasn’t,” she replied distractedly as her finger swiped over her screen. “I switched swifts just for this.” She hit the screen and said, “Done.” A second later, Stiles’ phone vibrated. His frown deepened. “Now the whole Pack can see how cute you two are on your date.”

Derek tried not to laugh, but they reminded him so much of him and Laura that it was hard not to. Stiles ordered popcorn and one drink to share, and left Erica by sticking out his tongue.

“Mature,” Derek whispered into his ear.

“I’m a pillar of maturity.”

In the theater, Derek kept getting distracted by kissing Stiles’ cheek, ear, and neck. Stiles kept swatting at his head. “Behave,” he whispered. “I really want to see this movie.” Derek would behave for a few minutes, content to have his arm around Stiles and Stiles leaning into his chest, but he would get distracted again and start placing light kisses on Stiles’ temple. “I can’t take you anywhere,” Stiles whispered, turning to kiss Derek on the lips. “If I miss the end of the movie, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Derek muffled his laugh into Stiles’ hair.

After the movie, they drove back to Stiles’ house. The sheriff was working, so Derek went inside with Stiles. As soon as they were inside, Derek slid his arms around Stiles’ waist and started kissing the back of his neck. Stiles leaned back into his embrace.

“Would it be inappropriate if I slept with you on our first date?” Stiles asked.

“Definitely not,” Derek murmured from where his tongue was worrying a spot on Stiles’ neck. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and ran up the stairs, somehow losing half his clothes on the way.

*

Stiles had spent the last few nights with Derek in the cabin. They were curled up together on the bed, Derek snuggled as close behind Stiles as was humanly possible. He kept dropping little kisses on the back of Stiles’ neck. Each time his lips brushed Stiles’ neck, he let out a pleasant hum.

“You know,” Stiles said, looking around the cabin. “I’m going to miss this place. It’s starting to feel like home.”

“Don’t want to leave,” Derek grumped. He was being petulant. The cabin didn’t belong to them, they’d only been squatting in it for the past two weeks. Stiles told him he had to find a proper place to live, and find a job, become an actual member of society instead of a caveman. Derek didn’t know what was so wrong with being a caveman, and Stiles told him he was never going to visit him if he lived in a cave, which meant no sex because they couldn’t have sex at Stiles’ house because the sheriff lived there. (That was a lie; they had absolutely had sex at Stiles’ house. The sheriff had been at work. Derek wasn’t stupid; he was terrified of the wolfsbane.)

Stiles turned around in Derek’s embrace in the most flailing, obnoxious way possible. Finally, Derek just gave up and dropped his arms and let Stiles roll him onto his back. Stiles crawled on top of him and grinned. “I win.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yes, you are a very frightening Alpha. I’m terrified.”

Stiles nipped at Derek’s cheek affectionately. Derek knew Stiles was a frightening werewolf. He’d watched him rip out the throat of Laura’s killer. It was in that moment that Derek had realized he loved Stiles, when he sacrificed everything for a non-Pack matter. Stiles killed for him, because the man had killed Derek’s sister.

It was a twisted realization, but Derek’s life had some pretty twisted stuff in it. Stiles, though, Stiles was nothing but clean rain and sunshine and silver moonlight. He had saved Derek from the darkness, had sunk so deep into Derek’s skin that he had finally stopped running. 

“I love you,” Derek whispered. Stiles’ face went slack with surprise, and Derek cursed himself. It was too much, too soon. Everything with Stiles had been too much, too soon, because apparently Stiles leapt without looking most of the time. His rag-tag Pack was proof of that.

Just as Derek was about to back-pedal, Stiles’ face broke out into a grin. “Me, too,” he said, covering Derek’s mouth with kisses. “I love you, too.” He kissed his way across Derek’s jaw, nuzzling at the spot just behind Derek’s ear he loved so much, before kissing down the column of Derek’s neck. 

Urged by some deep instinct, Derek rolled his head to the side, exposing the long column of his neck. Stiles growled, low and deep in his chest. Derek could feel his hardening cock pressing against his hip. Stiles leaned down, sniffing at the skin before he dragged his tongue from the base of his neck to just under his chin. Then, Stiles bit into his neck with fangs.

Derek cried out, gripping Stiles tighter as Stiles dragged his tongue over the already healing mark.

*

“I don’t know about this,” Derek said. He sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, staring out at a large house nestled deep in the woods. Stiles reached over and grabbed his hand. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Stiles said. “My grandma is awesome, and so are my aunts and uncles. I’ve already told them all about you – as has the rest of the Pack, they’re a bunch of gossip mills, just be warned – and they’re really excited to meet you.”

“Or claw me open for existing in the same room as their Alpha,” Derek said quietly. Stiles chuckled and got out of the Jeep. Derek reluctantly followed.

Stiles took Derek’s hand and led them around the house into the back yard. The yard was lit with strands of soft twinkle lights, lanterns, and tiki torches. There were two outdoor fireplaces set up and a bonfire near the back. Most of the Pack that Derek knew was there, and a whole bunch of adults he didn’t.

Stiles led Derek through rounds of introductions, aunts and uncles and cousins who were everything from warm and accepting to distrustful. The distrustful ones obviously hung out with Scott. Derek talked to the sheriff for awhile, and then spent awhile with Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and Isaac around an outdoor fireplace roasting marshmallows for s’mores.

“Hey, Derek,” Scott said as he came up behind him, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Don’t kill him McCall,” Jackson yelled.

“My money’s on Derek,” Danny said.

“Definitely,” Jackson agreed. Scott flipped them both off. 

Derek followed Scott away from the crowd, nearer to the edge of the woods. “I know we’re not getting rid of you,” Scott started, “so I wanted to let you know I don’t hate you.” Derek watched him carefully. “Stiles seems to have, I don’t know, marked you and done other things I _absolutely do not want to think about_ , so I know it’s serious. Stiles has never acted that way towards anyone, not even Lydia, and he was in love with her from the first moment he saw her on the playground.”

Derek stuck out his hand. Scott eyed it, and then shook it. Still gripping Derek’s hand, Scott leaned forward and said, “If you hurt him, I swear to god – “

“I know,” Derek huffed, “wolfsbane, death, and so forth.”

“I won’t use wolfsbane,” Scott said. “I’ll rip your throat out. End of story.” Scott dropped Derek’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder with a smile. “Welcome to the Pack.” He dragged his fingers across the back of Derek’s neck as he walked away.

“What was that all about?” Stiles asked, coming up while Derek still stared after Scott. 

“He threatened to kill me if I hurt you,” Derek said.

Stiles slipped his arms around Derek’s waist. “Two death threats. Over little ol’ me. I’m impressed.”

Derek craned his head over his shoulder and kissed Stiles lightly. “I’m pretty sure the rest of your Pack would kill me in an instant, too. They’re just too scared of you to tell me.”

“They’re your Pack, too,” Stiles said. “Our Pack would kill you if you hurt me.” Derek grunted. “Come on, she wants to meet you now.” Stiles led Derek towards a table in the far corner. It was empty, save a small-framed woman with silver hair and long limbs. When Derek got closer, he was taken aback at her eyes. They were exactly like Stiles’.

“It’s about time,” she said with a frown in Stiles’ direction. “Thought you were gonna avoid introducing me all night.”

“I wasn’t avoiding, Grandma,” Stiles sighed. 

“Sit, both of you.” Despite the fact that Stiles was her Alpha, he immediately obeyed. Derek took the chair across from Stiles, on the other side of the grandmother. She eyed Derek critically, her face pulled into a frown as she studied his face and then the rest of him. “You’re handsome, I’ll give Stiles that.”

Stiles actually face-palmed. 

“Well,” she said, looking at Derek expectantly. “Do you talk?”

“Um…” Derek started, glancing at Stiles then back at the grandmother.

“Um?” she said. “That’s not very eloquent. What’s your name, child?”

“Derek Hale.”

“Call me Grandma, everyone does.” She leaned forward and dragged her nose along Derek’s cheek in greeting. Then, she turned to Stiles. “You scent-marked him, in just about every way possible.”

“Grandma,” Stiles groaned, his cheeks burning red. 

“Were you afraid someone was going to try to claim him for themselves?” She glanced back at Derek. “Yes, well, I can understand your apprehension. He’s extremely desirable. But subtlety, Stiles. You didn’t have to write that he was yours in huge flashing neon lights over his head.” Grandma took a sip of her beer. "At least you didn't pee on him. Yet."

Stiles turned a bright shade of red. Derek tried to keep a straight face, but Stiles’ embarrassment was kinda funny. Grandma reminded him of his own grandmother. 

Grandma leaned closer to Derek and sniffed, her nose going directly to where Stiles had bitten Derek the night before. “You’ve completed the mating ritual.”

“What? Not you, too!” Stiles exclaimed. “I’m not some wild animal going into heat in the woods. Dinner! Pizza! Movies! Sneaking in late and Dad glaring at me because he catches us making out on the couch. Why is that all so difficult for you people to understand?” Stiles dropped his head into his hands. 

“This is my fault,” Grandma told Derek. “I should never have let his father explain the birds and the bees to him. He’s a wolf, not a human. I tried to tell him, but his father said he was too busy being Alpha to worry about instinct.” She shot Derek a mischievous grin that reminded him of Stiles. “Until he met you, that is.”

“Grandma, must you ruin my life?” Stiles complained, looking at them through his fingers. 

“It’s werewolf puberty,” Grandma explained. “My grandson is just a late bloomer. Extremely late.” She pointed to Derek. “This one knew it, understood what you were doing even when you didn’t, at least enough to recognize that were you mating with him. In the old customs, you two would be mated for the rest of your years.”

“I am not werewolf married to Derek!” Stiles exclaimed. He pointed at Derek. “He hasn’t even bought me dinner yet!”

“We went to dinner!” Derek replied.

“I paid!”

Grandma turned to Derek, annoyed. “What is wrong with you, boy? A fine young Alpha has chosen you, and you haven’t even bought him a meal? Shame on you.”

“I, uh – “

“We really need to work on his communication skills,” Grandma said to Stiles. Stiles laughed, and Derek joined in. This was absolutely ridiculous, and Derek loved every minute of it.

“Now, Derek, tell me of your old Pack. I want to hear all about them. I remember your mother when she was a little girl. Talia Hale, I’d never forget her. She ran around naked with this one’s mother, refusing to put clothes on. They lived as wolves for two weeks that summer.”

“You knew my mother?” Derek asked, and Grandma gave him a soft smile. 

“I did, child. Tell me of them, and then I’ll tell you stories of your mother. But only after I tell you stories about Stiles, like when he used to try to Alpha his way into cookies before dinner.”

“Grandma!” Stiles exclaimed, eyes bleeding red. “Stop embarrassing me.”

Grandma waved a hand dismissively. “Stiles, this boy let you mark him despite the fact that neither of you were even one hundred percent sure what was going on. You killed the Alpha who killed his sister. A few embarrassing stories is not going to change his feelings for you.”

“Fine,” Stiles said, moving around the table so he could sit in Derek’s lap. “But he better share embarrassing stories of himself, too. It’s not fair to gang up on me.”

Grandma smiled at them as Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist when Stiles settled himself on his lap. “Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy ganging up on you with Derek.”

“Introducing you two was a terrible idea,” Stiles said, dropping his forehead to Derek’s hair, but Derek could feel Stiles’ sheer elation. Stiles was happy. He watched Stiles’ face as he listened to the affectionate bickering between Stiles and his grandmother. Derek had never thought he’d be this happy again. Stiles turned and smiled at him, and Derek was happy and knew he was no longer alone.

He’d never be alone again.

-fin

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com), if you'd like to say hi! <3


End file.
